


I'll Never Be Free From Your Smile

by whisperedstory



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Don't copy to another site, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Musician Jaskier | Dandelion, Pining Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Roommates, Youtuber Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:48:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23915581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperedstory/pseuds/whisperedstory
Summary: Geralt isn't sure how he got here, standing in his kitchen in black gym shorts and a baby pink—baby fucking pink—shirt that stretches too tightly over his muscles and hasToss a Coinwritten in sparkling gold letters across his chest while Jaskier is aiming a camera at his face.Or: Jaskier is a YouTuber and Geralt is his best friend and roommate.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 208
Kudos: 2166





	I'll Never Be Free From Your Smile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tanathil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanathil/gifts).



> Written for [Defoni](https://twitter.com/Defoni), whose tweet about Geralt in a pink Toss Your Coin t-shirt inspired this.
> 
> Betaed by [dancing_adrift](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_Adrift)! Title taken from "I'll Never Be Free" performed by Willie Nelson.
> 
> [spoopy-miakitty](https://spoopy-miakitty.tumblr.com) made AMAZING, BEAUTIFUL [art](https://spoopy-miakitty.tumblr.com/post/620232004904042496/whispered-story-wrote-a-geskier-modern-au-fic) for this fic. Please got check it out ♥

Geralt isn't sure how he got here, standing in his kitchen in black gym shorts and a baby pink— _baby fucking pink—_ shirt that stretches too tightly over his muscles and has _Toss a Coin_ written in sparkling gold letters across his chest while Jaskier is aiming a camera at his face.

Well, technically Geralt knows how he got here. Three years ago he went to a pub—sitting at a table by _himself—to_ drink his sorrows away and by the time he'd left he had acquired Jaskier. Not voluntarily, mind you. Jaskier had just attached himself to Geralt and, unfortunately, he's even more stubborn than Geralt, so no amount of telling him to fuck off had gotten him to leave Geralt alone. He'd made a place for himself in Geralt's life and not two months later, Geralt—again, for reasons that defy his understanding—offered him his spare room when Jaskier had lost his job as a barista and what little money he made playing gigs in small pubs and bars was barely enough to cover food, much less rent.

It was around that time that Jaskier created a YouTube channel for his music, and when he found another job at a different coffee shop, he used _entirely too much money_ to buy better camera equipment.

Surprisingly, it worked out for him and he recently quit his job to focus solely on his music. He's been playing gigs in London pretty regularly now and more and more in other cities as well. His YouTube channel is doing fairly well, steadily gaining new followers and amassing a small but adoring fanbase. And yet, he's still living in Geralt's spare bedroom and neither of them have brought up the possibility of Jaskier finding his own place. 

And now here Geralt is, three years after their fateful meeting. In the pink shirt—Jaskier's _merch_ and fuck, Geralt really needs to do laundry asap—with a camera that is being waved in his face by a beaming Jaskier.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Geralt grunts.

"Vlogging," Jaskier says, and Geralt hates that he knows what that means and isn't even surprised.

Jaskier's songs do pretty well on YouTube, but his _fans_ like it even more when Jaskier uploads more personal videos. Though why anyone would like to see a video of Jaskier eating dinner or walking around town or fucking cleaning the aparment—badly, of course, so Geralt has to then clean up after him— Geralt has no fucking clue. 

"You're not filming yourself, you're filming _me_ ," Geralt points out. "We've talked about this."

Jaskier lowers his camera and looks at Geralt with wide blue eyes, his lower lip sticking out in a small pout. He looks ridiculous, but damn if he isn't pretty and Geralt has zero self-control around the idiot.

"Geralt, that shirt is my newest merch. Do you know how crazy my fans will go if they see it on you? You model it so, so well, you know, with all your muscles and your chest and everything," Jaskier says, waving his free hand around. "It's the best promotion I can think of. And you know what happens when that shirt sells well? I make money. Money that I spend on groceries for _us_. You like food, right?"

"We're hardly going to starve if you don't sell any of these shirts. They're ugly anyway."

"Ow, your words cut deep, my friend," Jaskier says, staggering back with a hand on his heart. Geralt braces himself to grab him in case Jaskier doesn't catch himself and loses balance. He gets hurt more often than anyone Geralt has ever met. More often than Geralt cares for, quite frankly.

"Jaskier," he scolds.

"Please, Geralt. Please?" Jaskier begs. "Let me film you. My fans will _love_ you; they get so excited whenever they catch a glimpse of you in the background of my videos. They'll be _delighted_ if they finally get to see your face for real, and wearing my merch on top of that! We'll break the internet!"

Geralt should say no. He's a private person and he runs his own gym and just the thought of any of his clients stumbling across him in a pink shirt in one of Jaskier's videos fills him with dread. He doesn't need or want his face plastered all over the internet.

"Fine," he grumbles. "Just this once. And just for a second."

Jaskier beams.

*

"Everyone is saying you look really, really hot in the comments," Jaskier tells him the next day, while staring down at his phone. "And they're all very excited for the new merch."

Geralt huffs.

Jaskier looks up briefly, smiling. "I owe you dinner. You're the best friend in the whole wide world, Geralt."

Geralt only grunts in reply. He thinks that'll be it. He popped up in one of Jaskier's videos for a few seconds, not even saying a word, and maybe Jaskier will sell a couple more shirts thanks to him—he highly doubts it, but Jaskier seems so convinced—and that'll be the end of it.

*

It is, of course, not the end of it. 

"They're calling you Jaskier's beefcake," Yennefer says with a cackle. "It's _hilarious_."

Geralt glowers at her over the rim of his pint. "How do you even know this?"

Yennefer smirks and shrugs. "I watch Jaskier's videos. And I read the comments—his fans are funny. Scary, but funny," she says. "They all wanna know your name and what you do and if you're going to be in more videos. You know, you might actually be competition for our dear, sweet Jaskier."

"I can't sing."

"I don't think most of his fans are there for Jaskier's singing," Yennefer replies.

Geralt glares at her, feeling oddly offended on Jaskier's behalf. He's a good singer and yeah, the whole YouTube thing is a bit weird and Geralt still doesn't fully get it, but Jaskier's good and he's been booking more and more gigs and if people can't see that they shouldn't have any right to call themselves his fans.

"Okay, simmer down," Yennefer says with an eye-roll. 

"I'm simmered down," Geralt grumbles. 

"Hmm," Yennefer hums. "Anyway. They _love_ you. And they also all seem to think you must be Jaskier's boyfriend and there are demands that you should be in more videos."

"Well, I'm not," Geralt says and yeah, that stings just _a little._ "And I won't be. It was a one-time thing."

Yennefer smirks. "Let's see how long it takes before Jaskier wears you down," she says. "He'll bat his pretty blue eyes and smile sweetly and you'll give in."

"I won't."

"Hmm, is that so? I have yet to see you say no to anything he asks," Yennefer mocks. "Have you never wondered why that is, other than the fact that you're hopelessly in love with him?"

"I'm not. It's… just a crush," Geralt mumbles.

"It's been three years," Yennefer points out and pats his hand. 

*

A week later, Geralt wakes up to bouncing and yelling and Jaskier's very excited face hovering over him. He's also straddling Geralt's lap, a warm, solid weight on top of him, and a man can only be so strong. So Geralt just squints up at him instead of tossing him straight out of his bed.

"Guess what?" Jaskier asks. 

"What?" Geralt mumbles.

Jaskier's smile grows wider. "My new merch went live and so many people wanted to buy it that my site crashed," he crows. "I broke the internet, Geralt."

"You broke your homepage. Which is absolute crap, so that might explain it," Geralt replies.

Jaskier rolls his eyes and pokes his chest. "Don't be mean. You're so horrible first thing in the morning. And any other time of the day, really," he says and pauses. "Why are we friends again?"

"Because nobody else would appear in one of your videos in an atrocious pink shirt."

Jaskier's expression softens. "Ah, yes, I remember," he says. He leans over Geralt and presses a kiss to his cheek. "You're a dear, thank you."

Geralt's heart gives a funny little jump in his chest. And when Jaskier slides off his lap and flops down next to him, Geralt just shifts to the side to make more room for him on the bed.

*

The thing about Jaskier thinking that it's Geralt's little cameo that helped the sales and not the fact that his fans apparently have very poor taste in clothing, unfortunately means that he's now convinced Geralt should be in more videos.

Geralt doesn't get why anyone would be interested in a Q & A video with him—people don't _know_ him—and he doesn't want to know what the hell a chapstick challenge is, but he's not doing it. 

He does, however, agree to occasionally show his face in one of Jaskier's videos. Just for a second here and there. And damn Yennefer for being right. He's an absolute push-over when it comes to Jaskier.

It's really bloody hard not to be when it makes Jaskier so damn happy though. And Jaskier's as respectful about it as he can be, only adding very brief clips with Geralt into his vlogs and never expecting him to talk. Sometimes when he films himself around the apartment he'll just pan his camera to Geralt for a second with a quick, "Oh look, my favorite roommate," or "Gotta end the video now, dears, I'm sorry. As you can see Geralt is here and there's a strict no camera rule for bff time."

Still, as Yennefer puts it when she teases Geralt about those videos, those little moments are enough for Jaskier's fans to "go berserk". 

"They lap it up, Geralt," she says gleefully. "There are now Geralt stans, do you know that?"

Geralt doesn't know what the fuck a stan is, so he just glares at her. There's nothing he can do but accept his newfound internet fame—he's sure Jaskier's fans will lose interest in a few weeks anyway.

*

Geralt blames it on the fact that he's still half asleep and it's still a little dark outside, so he isn't paying much attention when he gets dressed in work-out gear one morning and heads to his gym down the block to lift some weights. 

It's only when he's there and notices a college-aged girl sneaking glances at him, her cheeks pink, that he takes stock of himself in the mirrors and notices that he is wearing one of Jaskier's merch shirts. It's black—thank god for small favors—with a white print of a lute with a swirl of flowers above it on his chest and #jaskiersarmy written in cursive font underneath.

Their clothes get mixed up sometimes because they do laundry together—well, _Geralt_ does laundry and Jaskier tosses his things in with Geralt's. The fact that the shirt fits Geralt perfectly though and was sitting neatly folded right on top of his pile of gym clothes this morning is a little suspicious.

"If you're going to make me a walking ad for your things, at least pay me," he grumbles when he gets back from the gym.

Jaskier's eyes flit to his chest and then back up to his face and he grins. "You look absolutely stunning in the shirt. You're welcome," he says and hands Geralt a steaming mug. "Coffee, dear?"

Geralt grunts, a little annoyed, but accepts the cup before he heads to the bathroom to take a shower. At least the gym wasn't crowded this morning and hopefully nobody other than the one girl even noticed his shirt.

*

"Ah, Jaskier's biggest fan," Lambert says with a snicker when he and Jaskier arrive at his place. Music is thumping loudly and the apartment is crowded with people, even though Lambert swore to him it was just going to be a small get-together. It's the only reason Geralt let himself be talked into coming.

Jaskier grabs Geralt by the wrist and smiles brightly. "Let's go get a drink, Geralt."

"Hey, no, I wanted to talk a little more to the president of your fanclub," Lambert complains and Jaskier flips him off.

"What was that about?" Geralt asks as he lets himself be dragged away.

"I don't know. Probably just Lambert being an idiot, like always," Jaskier says. He grabs two red solo cups and pours rum and Coke into them, heavy on the rum.

"Jaskier."

Jaskier hands him a cup and grins. "Cheers, my friend."

Geralt sighs, but takes the cup. Now that he's here and Lambert has already seen him, he doubts he'll be able to slip away again quietly without all of their friends complaining about him being a spoilsport. So drinking it is.

He reminds Jaskier to have some water before he loses him in the crowd, then finds himself out on the balcony with his third cup.

"Ah, there you are," Yennefer says, as she and Triss step outside. "I was starting to think you'd already fled."

"Lambert said it would be a small party," Geralt grumbles.

Yennefer arches an eyebrow at him. "And you believed him?"

Triss laughs and steals Geralt's cup, taking a sip before making a face and handing it back. "That's disgusting."

"Jaskier made it," Geralt replies, and Triss doesn't look surprised.

"Ah, our dear Jaskier," Yennefer says with a flourish and the tone instantly has Geralt worried. "I'm surprised you're out here without him. I didn't think you'd let him out of your sight, given that you're a devoted member of his army."

"What?" Geralt asks, alarm bells going off in his head. 

Triss slaps Yennefer's shoulder. "Leave him alone. It's sweet."

"What's sweet?" Geralt asks. "Could someone tell me what the fuck is going on?"

Yennefer laughs and Triss sighs, smiling. "Some girl snapped a picture of you at the gym. It's on Twitter," she says. "Don't let anyone tease you. You're a good friend."

"Yes, it's adorable," Yennefer teases, flipping her long, dark hair back. "Jaskier's fans are ecstatic that he has a boyfriend that is so proud of him that he wears his shirt in public for the whole world to see."

"Jaskier tricked me into wearing it," Geralt replies, knocking the rest of his drink back. He needs more alcohol. "And I'm not his boyfriend anyway."

"Ah yes, of course," Yennefer snarks. 

"Stop making fun of him," Triss says, slapping Yennefer again. "Seriously, Geralt, I think it's very nice that you're so supportive of Jaskier. He's been working so hard to make it as a musician, and we all know being a YouTuber isn't what he had in mind, but his music is finally getting some attention and I think it's great."

And when she puts it like that, it's very, very hard for Geralt to regret the stupid shirt. 

He remembers how down Jaskier sometimes got when he first moved in with him, how he questioned if he'd ever be able to support himself with his music, how much he hated working as a barista. Uploading his songs on YouTube and getting some positive feedback has raised his spirits so much. He never wanted to be a YouTuber, still gets embarrassed about it sometimes, but his channel gained more attention once he started filming little vlogs and sharing more about himself. It's a necessary evil.

And Geralt should be supporting that, because that's what friends do.

He still glowers at Jaskier when he finds him inside a little while later after getting another drink.

"You didn't tell me there's a picture of me floating around the internet," he says gruffly.

Jaskier, whose cheeks are flushed and hair dishevelled, loses his happy smile. 

"Oh. _That._ Uh...Are you mad at me?" he asks and stumbles against Geralt's side, clearly pretty tipsy. Geralt instantly winds his arm around him, holding him steady. "Please don't be mad at me. I can't stand it when you are."

"When am I ever?" Geralt replies.

Jaskier leans into him, nose pressing against Geralt's jaw. "All the time. I do stupid stuff a lot, I know."

Geralt sighs. "Let's get you some water, Jaskier."

"Only if you promise not to be cross with me anymore," Jaskier says, and for someone as tipsy as he is and with about half as much muscle mass as Geralt has, it's impressively difficult to get him to budge.

"I'm not, okay?" Geralt promises finally. 

He never really was anyway.

*

Geralt tries to be better about the whole YouTube thing after that. The next time Jaskier aims his camera at him, he gives him something that could be considered a smile. The time after that he grumbles Jaskier's name, but it comes out all gruff and fond, and Jaskier smiles widely.

"They'll love hearing your voice," he says.

And when Jaskier has a gig a couple of weeks later, Geralt offers to film it for him without Jaskier having to beg and plead first.

There's a decent crowd there and Geralt notices several people wearing Jaskier's merch, which makes him have to bite back a proud grin. He also notices that _he_ is getting glances, which he's less happy with. He keeps his eyes on Jaskier instead—who is singing his heart out, beaming proudly between songs when people clap and cheer for him—and makes sure the camera is in focus.

*

Jaskier uploads a song from the gig a few days later. Geralt wakes up to a notification on his phone—and yes, he has notifications for Jaskier's channel enabled and no, Jaskier doesn't know about that—and he lies in bed and watches the video on the small screen. 

The footage is pretty good, the audio not too shabby. Geralt doesn't care much for Jaskier's vlogs and whatnot—he lives with Jaskier, he already knows what he gets up to all day long—but he likes these videos. Jaskier always gets lost in his music and he's a damn good performer, drawing the audience right in with his voice and his passion, and he's so much more real in these videos, so much more at ease.

Geralt skims the first few comments, smiles at how excited Jaskier's subscribers are that he uploaded a new song. He halts when he sees a comment saying how sweet it is that Jaskier thanked him. 

He scrolls back up and reads Jaskier's video description, where Jaskier has written: _Special thanks to my personal cameraman and favorite human, Geralt!_

"Dammit, Jaskier," Geralt grumbles, even though he's smiling. 

How the fuck is he supposed to get over his stupid crush—not that he's trying, mind you, but maybe one day he will—when Jaskier does things like that and calls him his favorite person?

*

Geralt barely sees Jaskier over the next few days because Jaskier holes himself up in his room; Geralt can hear the halted strumming of his guitar through the thin walls, letting him know Jaskier is composing. He gets completely lost in it when inspiration strikes, so Geralt pokes his head into his room every now and then just to make sure the idiot at least takes breaks to eat and drink water, and threatens to physically drag him away from his guitar once or twice when Jaskier still doesn't emerge from his bedroom to at least get a snack.

Jaskier is tragically bad at taking care of himself sometimes. They don't fight a lot, but that is one of the few things they regularly get into tussles over.

But then Geralt comes home from the gym one evening and finds Jaskier in the kitchen, humming to himself and stirring something in a pot. 

"You're alive," he deadpans.

Jaskier looks over his shoulder and smiles sweetly. "Honey, you're home."

Geralt grunts.

"Dinner is ready in about ten minutes," Jaskier says. "If you didn't grab a shower at the gym, go take one now. I won't have your sweaty ass sitting at my table."

Geralt doesn't bother pointing out that he bought the kitchen table before Jaskier even moved in, so technically it's his.

He silently goes to grab two plates and cutlery instead, sneaking a glance into the pots to see Jaskier is making spaghetti bolognese. It smells pretty damn good. Jaskier doesn't cook often, even though he's much better at it than Geralt and constantly complains that Geralt cooks dinners that are far too healthy.

"I finished a couple of new songs," Jaskier says. "And I got some really exciting news today."

"Hmm?"

Jaskier drops the spoon into the saucepan and shoots Geralt a wide grin.

"I have a gig in Amsterdam in a couple of weeks. I started talking to someone who works at this small venue there and now they asked me if I wanna come and play for them," he says excitedly. "Amsterdam, Geralt! My first international show. Can you believe it?"

"That's great, Jaskier," Geralt says, finishing setting the table, unable to stop the small, proud grin from forming on his face. An international gig really is a pretty big deal and he knows how much Jaskier wants to play more.

"Hmm, it's not one of those YouTube things either," Jaskier says. "It's just me. And the place looks really cool. A lot of up-and-coming bands perform there. It's not _huge_ , but it's got a really good reputation."

"Sounds good. I wish I could come see you play," Geralt says and returns to Jaskier's side. He squeezes his shoulder and Jaskier smiles at him, small and pleased, his cheeks pink. 

"Yeah," Jaskier agrees and ducks his head. "I was thinking maybe I should make a trip out of it, just for a few days. It'd be a shame to fly there just for a day."

Geralt nods, even though the thought of Jaskier being gone for several days doesn't sit quite right with him.

"You really can't come, can you?" Jaskier asks. "It'd be fun, traveling together."

"I'd have to cancel on a bunch of clients; I can't do that," Geralt says regretfully.

"Ah, well, I'm a big boy, I'll survive without my favorite fan," Jaskier says, and smiles. "You, on the other hand, you will probably miss me terribly. Promise me not to pine for my company while I'm gone?"

"I'll try, but it'll be tough," Geralt snarks.

*

Turns out, it really _is_ tough.

It's ridiculous, because Jaskier is only gone for a week. He leaves early on a Saturday morning, a week before his gig, and he's barely gone for a few hours before Geralt starts feeling a little lonely. The apartment feels empty and too quiet without Jaskier. 

They're rarely ever apart, not for more than a day here and there when Jaskier has a gig outside the city and even then Geralt drives out to see him play more often than not.

He's become entirely too dependent on Jaskier's presence in his life, he decides, but he's not sure what to do about it. He doesn't want to ever get used to Jaskier not being there. 

And then, the following Friday, on the day of his gig in Amsterdam, Jaskier uploads a new video.

Geralt is at the gym, working with clients and then getting his own work-out in before he wraps up. He's on his way out, checking his phone, when he sees the notification. He waits until he's home, sitting on the couch, before he watches the video, expecting a vlog about Jaskier's travels, full of grins and enthusiasm and Jaskier's usual ramblings.

Jaskier's sitting on a bed in a small, nondescript hotel room. He's got a couple days worth of stubble; his hair is tousled and his smile a little dim.

"So, this is a little different. I'm probably going to delete this again soon or, hell, not even upload it in the first place. My friends would say I'm just being dramatic," he says, looking into the camera with a small laugh. "I suppose I've just been hit by a bout of melancholy today."

Geralt's heart clenches. He hates seeing Jaskier like this, looking so… _defeated_. He gets like this sometimes. Has off days, just like everyone does, and he gets quiet and withdrawn. Usually, they'll sit on the couch with a bottle of wine and ice cream and watch whatever movie Jaskier's in the mood for on days like this.

Today, Geralt can't do anything but watch Jaskier on the small screen of his phone, babbling about how he doesn't want to sound ungrateful, because traveling has been amazing and he's seen so much and he knows how lucky he is to get to do this and he's looking forward to his gig tonight, but he's just not feeling great. He's apologetic, as if he truly believes he doesn't have a right to feel that way, and that makes Geralt's chest ache.

Jaskier's voice is too quiet and his smile too brittle.

"I guess I'm just feeling a little homesick," Jaskier admits at the very end of the video. "I miss my friends. _A lot_. I've never had a gig without at least one of them being there. And you know us musician types, we're way too sensitive. I'm being ridiculous, I know."

He laughs, tinny and fake, before he ends the video.

Geralt goes to read a few of the comments people have left, and he's glad all of them are very nice and offering comfort and hugs. The top comment, though, says, _Why the hell isn't Geralt there to comfort his man? I'm disappointed in my OTP_.

Geralt has no fucking clue what an OTP is, but he does feel guilty for letting Jaskier go on his own. Jaskier doesn't like being alone and Geralt should have known, should have worked something out.

He closes the app and calls Jaskier. It rings for a long time before Jaskier finally picks up.

"Geralt," he says. "Are you calling to wish me good luck, you big softie?"

"Hmm. I saw your video," Geralt replies without preamble.

"Oh. Oh, shit, I wanted to delete that, but then I had to get ready to go to the venue and I forgot," Jaskier says with a small, embarrassed laugh. "Feel free to make fun of me and tell me I'm being an idiot for whining about getting to travel and play my music for people."

"Are you okay, Jaskier?" Geralt asks seriously, quietly.

There's a long pause. "I miss home, is all," Jaskier admits. "Don't you worry about little old me."

"You could have called, Jask," Geralt tells him. "You can talk to me about things like that, you know that." 

And okay, maybe Geralt isn't very good at talking, doesn't know how to offer comforting words, but he's a pretty good listener.

"Thank you, Geralt. You're too sweet. But I know how busy you are with work and I didn't wanna bother you." 

Geralt grunts, frustrated that Jaskier feels that way. "You can bother me," he presses. "Okay?"

"Okay. I'll remember that next time," Jaskier says. "I'm sorry if I worried you."

"Don't be," Geralt dismisses. "So, you're at the venue already?"

"Yeah. It looks bigger than I thought," Jaskier says. "It's awesome, but… there'll be more people than I thought. I really hope I don't mess this up."

"You'll do great," Geralt says confidently. 

Jaskier is always great.

"Thank you. And I found someone here who agreed to film at least a song or two, so you can watch it when I get back tomorrow. That's cool, right?" Jaskier says, sounding a little less tense. "I gotta go now, they want to show me around and go over some details. And I have to delete that stupid video before I forget. Wish me luck for tonight, will you?"

"Good luck, Jask," Geralt says. "See you tomorrow."

"I can't wait. I expect to be welcomed home with a lot of fanfare. Maybe a cake. And booze."

"We'll see," Geralt teases.

*

Geralt is pretty sure Jaskier was just joking about the fanfare part, but he does go buy Jaskier's favorite chocolate cake from a bakery close to their apartment and makes sure the fridge is stocked with food Jaskier likes as well as booze before he goes to get Jaskier from the airport.

Jaskier's plane is already deboarding by the time Geralt gets there, and he doesn't have to wait very long before people start filing out through customs. Jaskier doesn't see him at first, but when he does he stops, a surprised look on his face that soon morphs into a smile. 

And then he's running towards him with a laugh and all but flinging himself at Geralt, and Geralt was expecting it—or hoping for it, at the very least—so he opens his arms and braces himself for the hug.

"You," Jaskier mumbles into his ear. 

"Welcome home," Geralt says, lips brushing against Jaskier's hair. 

Jaskier draws back and grins. "Look at you, surprising me at the airport."

"I was in the area," Geralt says, and Jaskier looks amused.

"Right, of course," he says. "It's just a coincidence. Lucky me."

*

Jaskier drops his things right in the hallway when they make it back to the apartment and for once Geralt doesn't comment about him making a mess and not picking up after himself. 

Jaskier looks fine, but definitely a little exhausted and Geralt can save the nagging for some other time.

"There's cake," he offers, not really sure what to say or do now. He wants to take Jaskier by the shoulders, give him a proper once-over to make sure he's really okay.

He reminds himself that Jaskier was just feeling homesick, it's not a big deal and he's fine, and Geralt needs to not _hover_ and mother-hen him. 

"Cake," Jaskier repeats, brightening up. Geralt sees him spy the white box on the counter and he saunters right over to the kitchen island. When he turns back around to Geralt his smile is softer.

"That's my favorite."

"Hmm." 

"Geralt," Jaskier says, looking touched by the gesture. "You're a sweet, sweet man."

"I just, you know…"

"Happened to walk by the bakery and the cake fell into your pocket? Just like you just happened to be at the airport when my plane landed."

"Yeah," Geralt confirms, and Jaskier grins.

"Alright. I'll let this slide. But I need an honest answer: will you drag me to the gym tomorrow if I eat the whole thing?" Jaskier asks, brushing a strand of hair out of his face as he heads to the drawers and gets two forks. 

"Probably," Geralt admits. "How about just half, hmm?"

"Deal," Jaskier says, pointing the forks at him. He drops them down onto the counter and his posture changes a little, becoming less relaxed. "Uh. There's something I wanted to do first. If you're okay with it."

"What is it?" Geralt asks and brushes past Jaskier to go make a pot of coffee. When he glances back, Jaskier is watching him, looking a little nervous.

"You know that video. I did delete it, but a bunch of people saw it before I did, obviously. And everyone was so sweet in the comments and _worried_. I tweeted that I was fine, but everyone seems to still be a little concerned and I feel really bad," Jaskier says, smiling sheepishly. "I feel like I should do something to let everyone know that I'm really doing okay, I was just… having a moment."

"Okay." 

"But see, a video seems too _dramatic_ , and yes, yes, I know I _am_ dramatic, but I just don't have the energy to film something. And what would I even say? I'm home and fine and don't worry?" Jaskier continues. "So I was thinking I should post a photo on Instagram, show everyone I'm doing okay."

"Right," Geralt says, even though all of the social media stuff goes way over his head. Jaskier has a whole bunch of different accounts and half of the time Geralt has no idea what he's talking about and how he keeps track of everything or why it matters if he posts something on Twitter or Instagram or TikTok, whatever the hell that exactly is. 

"You know I hate selfies. They're so _awkward_ ," Jaskier says, his voice quieter now. "So, uh, I was wondering if maybe we could take one together. I think I'd feel less weird about that and my fans would appreciate it. They'd get to see that I'm not alone and they like you so much." 

He looks at Geralt with pleading eyes and okay, Geralt _really_ can't say no to those eyes. 

And he remembers that comment under Jaskier's video, the one with all the likes, about him not being there when Jaskier wasn't feeling well. How he should have been, how it disappointed Jaskier's fans that Geralt wasn't taking care of Jaskier when he needed him.

"Fuck," he mutters. "Fine, okay."

"Really?" Jaskier asks, clearly surprised.

"Just this once," Geralt notes, and Jaskier quickly nods. 

He looks around, muttering something about light, and then drags Geralt into their living-room while pulling his phone out. Geralt lets himself be manhandled into position and Jaskier combs his fingers through his hair before he snaps a whole bunch of photos, humming as he looks through them when he's done.

"This one," he finally says and holds his phone out for Geralt to see. "You okay with that?"

It's not a bad photo. Geralt is standing half-way behind Jaskier, Jaskier's back against his shoulder, and their faces are close together, almost touching. Jaskier is smiling and Geralt, well, he isn't _frowning_ the way he usually does when someone takes a photo of him. He looks—content.

"It's fine," he agrees. 

Later, he brings up Jaskier's Instagram on his phone and smiles when he sees the photo of the two of them. 

Jaskier's caption says, _Sorry if I worried some of you. I was feeling homesick, but I promise I'm absolutely fine. Thank you for the concern and sweet messages, my darlings. As you can see I'm well and back home with this one!_

The comments are a whole lot of incoherent babbling in capital letters and Jaskier's fans proclaiming _relationship goals_ and how they're _the cutest boyfriends_.

Geralt puts his phone down, his heart hurting with how much he wishes that was true. 

*

By the next day, Jaskier is back to his usual self, cheerful and happy, singing in the kitchen and barging into Geralt's room without knocking and leaving his things scattered all over the apartment.

He makes enough noise for two and enough of a mess for three, and the place no longer feels empty or silent. 

When Geralt does laundry three days later, he gathers Jaskier's socks from under the coffee table and off the couch, finds one of his sweaters on the kitchen counter and then goes to grab the rest of Jaskier's laundry from his room. 

He isn't surprised when he finds Jaskier hasn't unpacked yet, and with a sigh he opens Jaskier's carry-on and decides to just wash everything Jaskier took along on his trip instead of trying to guess what is dirty and what isn't. He isn't going to _sniff_ Jaskier's laundry, after all, for the simple reason that that would probably cross a line he shouldn't be crossing.

Pulling out colorful shirts and underwear and a balled-up pair of jeans, Geralt pauses. There, at the bottom of the suitcase, is one of his own t-shirts with the logo of his favorite football team on the chest, crumpled and creased.

Geralt tells himself Jaskier must have packed it by accident. 

He very pointedly doesn't sniff that shirt either to find out if it smells like Jaskier.

*

Geralt drops his keys into the bowl on the dresser by the door, lines his shoes neatly on the shoe rack, and picks up three pairs of Jaskier's shoes which are scattered next to the rack and lines them up as well.

In the kitchen, he heads straight for the fridge and he's pulling out a bottle of water when he hears Jaskier's bedroom door creak open. He makes a mental note to oil the hinges, knowing Jaskier won't do it himself, as he turns around.

"Hey," he greets and then frowns a little. Jaskier is dressed in an old t-shirt and pajama bottoms, his hair messy and a pillow crease crossing his left cheek.

"Did you just get up?"

Jaskier yawns as he shuffles around the counter and goes to grab the tea kettle from the stove.

"Yes and no," he says as he fills the kettle with water. "I was up and then decided to go back to bed around noon."

"Everything okay?" Geralt asks. Jaskier isn't usually one to nap in the middle of the day—he'll sleep in late if he can, but once he's up he's usually so full of energy it takes a lot for him to tire out.

"Just a shit day," Jaskier says and heaves a sigh as he puts the kettle on the stove and flicks the hob on. "Well, that's not fair. It was quite a good morning. I got some stuff done, I played around with a song I've been working on and I was feeling really hyped about it. So I decided to do a live Q & A on Instagram to answer questions about my songs and composing."

"Hmm."

Jaskier leans against the kitchen cabinets behind him and starts picking at his fingers, eyes downcast. "Most questions I got were about… other stuff," he admits and glances up, smiling weakly. "It's not a big deal. I mean, listening to me ramble about music probably really isn't that interesting to people. I get it."

"You're upset," Geralt points out, and Jaskier groans.

"Well, yes," he says and slumps. "I'm a _musician_. I know that's not what a lot of people who watch my videos come to my channel for, though. They wanna see the other stuff."

"People are dumb," Geralt says and goes to grab Jaskier a mug and his favorite tea.

"Hmm, well, I guess that explains why most of the questions I got were about you," Jaskier says lightly, nudging him. 

Geralt sends him a look, and Jaskier grins a little and it only looks somewhat fake.

"Oh, I jest. I get it, I do. You're incredibly interesting and there's— _all that_ ," he says, waving his hands at Geralt's body. "I don't blame my fans for being curious about you. And I don't answer most of their questions about you, because I know you wouldn't feel comfortable about that and I'm going to respect that, but I guess that just makes them more curious. You're an enigma, my dear. Enigmas fascinate people." 

Geralt sighs and grabs the kettle, the water inside bubbling and steaming. "What do you want to do?" he asks as he starts preparing Jaskier's tea.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing. Next time I get it into my head to do a Q & A, I'll vet the questions beforehand, pick the ones I like so it won't be quite so overwhelming."

"If you think satisfying their curiosity will help…" Geralt starts.

"Oh. Oh, no, Geralt, I know you wouldn't be comfortable with that," Jaskier says. 

"If it helps," Geralt says and shrugs.

Jaskier looks at him with wide, sad eyes. "You're my dearest friend, Geralt. You're not… a _ploy_ in my career. I hope I haven't made you feel that way recently? Oh, I have, haven't I?" he says, sounding more and more dismayed. "I'm sorry. I'm a terrible friend."

"Jaskier, I didn't say that. You didn't force me to do anything I didn't want to," Geralt assures him and Jaskier laughs.

"Oh, but I did. I know I always talk you into things. I push and prod until you give in," Jaskier sniffs. "I'm _horrid_." 

Geralt wants to roll his eyes at Jaskier's theatrics, but he isn't sure that's not going to make Jaskier feel worse. Instead he just curls a hand around Jaskier's wrist, squeezing gently before letting him go again. "Stop. You're working yourself up over nothing," he says gruffly.

"Let me apologize, Geralt, _please_ ," Jaskier says. "It just… felt kind of good, you know?"

"The attention?"

"The… oh, no. Well, that as well, maybe," Jaskier admits. "But I meant showing you off. It felt good. And maybe… maybe I liked that everyone instantly jumped to the conclusion that you're my boyfriend, because you're so out of my league. It was flattering and it made me feel really good about myself, if I'm honest. But then I guess it got kind of out of hand, because now it's this huge thing, you know? Every video I do they just look for signs of you and pick apart everything I say and read into everything and they're an enthusiastic bunch, they mean well, but… I really just want to play my music sometimes, you know?"

Geralt stares at Jaskier and his heart is doing all kinds of funny things, like tripping over itself. "You think I'm out of your league?" he repeats.

"Uh, yes?" Jaskier says and laughs a little. "Obviously. You're… you. I'm me. Were you even listening to any of the other things I said?"

"I'm not—" Geralt starts. "I'm… in your league."

Jaskier looks puzzled. "What?"

"You… me… you know. If anything you're out of _my_ league," Geralt says, the words stilted. There's a reason all of his attempts at dating and relationships always ended disastrously, because he isn't good at this. At talking about his feelings and opening up to people.

Jaskier looks at him with wide eyes. "Geralt. If I'm totally getting the wrong idea here, please let me know. We can forget about it and just move on," he says. "But are you saying you, uh, have feelings for me?"

"Would—that be okay?" Geralt asks, looking carefully at Jaskier to gauge his reaction. 

Jaskier's smile is slow, getting wider until it's blinding. "Yes. Yes, darling, that would be quite okay," he says and then laughs. He turns his body further into Geralt's, rests his hands on his shoulders and bites down on his bottom lip. They're close, faces just a few inches apart. "You should really kiss me now. Only if you were so inclined, of course."

Geralt hums and closes the gap between them. Jaskier's lips are soft and his breath is a little sour from sleep, and Geralt could do this forever, especially when Jaskier melts against him. He brings his arms around Jaskier, fists the fingers of one hand in the fabric of Jaskier's shirt and cups the back of his head with the other, fingers sliding into soft, tousled hair. 

When they part, Jaskier is grinning and he grabs Geralt's hand and tugs. "Come on. Take me to bed," he says. 

"Your tea," Geralt starts, and Jaskier grins.

"Fuck my tea," he says and then his grin turns sly. "Or better, fuck me. I've waited long enough, Geralt, I refuse to wait any longer. If you want to, that is."

And Geralt wants. Of course he does. 

*

Jaskier makes the prettiest noises.

Geralt should have expected it. He has had more fantasies about it than he will ever admit, but he still isn't prepared for the reality of having Jaskier in his bed. For the quiet gasps and moans, for the needy pleas for _more_ and _please_ and _touch me_ , for the way he whines and arches up against Geralt once Geralt has him naked and under him, for the way he sucks in a breath when Geralt finally pushes into him, eyes wide and wet, the heels of his feet digging into Geralt's ass, urging him in deeper.

He wasn't prepared for the way his name sounds on Jaskier's lips—gasped out as Geralt thrusts into him, muffled when Geralt kisses him sloppily while fucking him deep and hard, cried out when Geralt hits just the right spot.

Jaskier is tight and hot and he doesn't shut up and he doesn't stop squirming and writhing, hands touching Geralt everywhere, fingers digging into muscles and tangling in his hair. 

He's beautiful. 

Geralt doesn't think he's ever going to get enough. Jaskier seems to agree, because Geralt has barely caught his breath after the first round before Jaskier's kisses get more insistent again, his fingers trailing over Geralt's chest, down to his still half-hard cock.

The first time was needy and fast and amazing; the second round is much more languid. Geralt takes his time, presses Jaskier down into the mattress and covers his body with his own, kisses Jaskier deep and slow as he sinks back into him. He fucks Jaskier with smooth, slow rolls of his hips, both of them already sticky and sweaty and breathless, the eagerness sated, but not the want. 

Geralt comes with a groan of Jaskier's name this time, murmured between kisses, and he crawls down Jaskier's body, still trembling with pleasure, and sucks him into his mouth, letting him spill down his throat with a broken cry.

*

A month into dating—though Geralt isn't sure if they can call it that when they've never actually gone on a date and skipped all the early relationship awkwardness and settled right to, as Yennefer calls it, being married as fuck—Jaskier uploads a new song. It's titled _Geralt's Song_ and it's a slow, soft love song and the whole thing is sappy as hell.

Their friends tease them mercilessly for it, but Geralt doesn't care, because he gets to have Jaskier after three years of pining like a lovesick fool. He gets to sleep with Jaskier in his arms every night, gets to come home to Jaskier, who always flings himself at Geralt with a grin, because Jaskier does nothing quietly, subtly, gets to wake Jaskier up with slow kisses—or get woken up with a mouth around his cock, if Jaskier happens to wake up before him, and if that isn't the best start into a day possible, then Geralt doesn't know what is. 

Geralt watches Jaskier play his song on YouTube sometimes, when Jaskier isn't there to see and mock him for it. It's a good song. A beautiful song, if he's honest. But his favorite part is the end of the video, when Jaskier has finished singing, fingers strumming the last chords, and he lifts his head and looks at something— _at Geralt—_ behind the camera and smiles, wide and happy.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/whispered_story) | [tumblr](https://whispered-story.tumblr.com/)


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